3. Forbidden
As the weeks passed a routine settled in. Classes, lectures, time out on the Quidditch grounds. Laurel had to agree with Serene that there was a certain fascination in most of the stuff they had to learn. Many evenings she found herself up late, unable to close the book she read. And every day she learned incredible things. According to their knowledge and abilities the mature students were split up and attended various classes.
There was a village nearby and the older students were allowed to go there on Saturdays and do some shopping.
This was the only thing all week long Serene and Laurel did together. It was nice to be with young people but serious shopping had to be done with somebody of the same age group.
Serene tried a velvet robe in deep blue and turned self-consciously. "I look fat in this, don't I."
Laurel rolled her eyes. They had spent almost two hours in this shop and she was dying for something to drink. "No, you don't. Buy it."
Serene took another look in the mirror. The mirror smiled and applauded as she took a full turn and made the skirt swirl.
"I'll take it then."
They left and settled at a table in front of the pub. Two mugs appeared right in front of them, and they enjoyed the last rays of autumn sun.
"Are you still longing to get expelled?" Serene asked and eyed a pretty seventh year from Ravenclaw.
Laurel shrugged. "I don't know. This place is so weird. I am not like you. I didn't dream about coming here since I was seven."
Serene's eyes clouded. "You have no idea. I my heart I always knew Hogwarts existed. But nobody would believe me. After all those years of therapy and Prozac even I had begun to think I might be crazy."
"It just worries me what my family will think about my disappearance."
"The Ministry took care of that," said a voice behind them.
Minerva McGonagall set her shopping basket to the floor and pulled a chair to the table.
"What do you mean - took care?"
"They sent a letter in which you explained that your job would keep you in England for a longer period than you had thought. Probably until Christmas or longer."
"They forged a letter?"
"I am afraid that they did."
"But my flat? Who is paying the rent?"
"I guess they have means to take care of that as well." A pot of tea appeared in front of Minerva and she sight contentedly. "Ah, shopping kills my feet."
Laurel sat there and watched her drink tea and make polite conversation with Serene. Homesickness almost choked her. Suddenly her mug cracked and burst. Ice crystals shattered all over the table. Minerva reacted fast and pinched Laurel's hand.
"Ouch!"
"Wake up, girl! Look what you just did. I thought you had some control over your feelings by now."
"At least she didn't set fire," Serene remarked smugly. "And she'll come handy next summer. We'll never run out of ice cubes."
* * *
That evening after dinner Professor McGonagall waited for Laurel at the door of the Great Hall. Laurel blushed. The ice incident had been embarrassing and had minimised her chances to get released anywhere soon.
"Come with me," McGonagall ordered.
Speculating about what might happen to students who broke mugs by shock- freezing them, Laurel followed. They entered the Professor's study. On the carved oak desk stood a large china bowl with water.
"I assume it was sadness, not anger that was responsible for this afternoon's unfortunate event?"
"Yes. I am sorry."
The older woman pointed at the bowl. "Maybe it gets better if you see that all is well at home."
Laurel frowned. "In a soup tureen?"
"Have a look."
She waved a hand over the water and mumbled a few words. "Don't attempt this yourself yet!"
The water surface rippled and blurred. Suddenly Laurel recognised colours, shapes and saw her nephews collect chestnuts from the big tree in her parent's garden while the sun set. Bobo, their dog, jumped about and barked. She smiled sadly and looked at Minerva. "Is this real?"
"It happens this very minute. You can have a glimpse at them now and then. Just see me in my office and I help you. But you must promise to try and keep control."
"It is not that I don't try … it just …"
Professor McGonagall offered her a seat. "Your mind slips?"
"Yes."
"Is there anything at Hogwarts that worries you or scares you?"
Laurel sighed. "Do you remember your first term at Hogwarts?"
"Very vividly."
"Now imagine all that but at age thirty. The kids are very nice and I like them a lot. But I feel like a fool most of the time."
"But this fool will live and not get killed by avalanches or hailstorms."
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.
"Allow me to call Professor Dumbledore to join or little conversation."
Before Laurel could nod, Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. Laurel had seen some of the teachers do it but it still amazed her.
The headmaster wiped his feet before he stepped onto Minerva's carpet. "Sorry about the ashes."
"Never mind, Albus." Professor McGonagall smiled. "You and I agreed upon letting Miss Hunter settle in before we talked to her about the true reasons for her stay here. I feel the time has come now."
Laurel sat up straight. "The true reason? What do you mean?"
"All those accidents that happened to you form a pattern," Dumbledore explained. "Natural phenomena but sudden and violent. Considering that you had little control over your talents …"
"Or none," Minerva muttered.
"You could have been the cause of all that. But not the fire in the National Library," he continued.
"Are you saying that somebody is trying to kill me?" Laurel felt a hysterical laughter raise in her throat. Smoke poisoning. She had suffered a real bad case of smoke poisoning and was hallucinating. All this - the school, the wizards, the broomsticks for heaven's sake - had to be caused be too much carbon monoxide. Right now she probably lay in a coma somewhere in a hospital bed.
"We are afraid so."
Minerva saw it coming and passed a glass with amber liquid to Laurel.
"What is this? One of Snape's potions? Will it turn me into a frog?"
"It is muggle cognac," Dumbledore smiled.
Laurel drowned the glass in one go and coughed for the next minute or so. The Professors waited patiently until she could speak again.
"Why would anybody want to kill me?"
"We don't know, Miss Hunter." Dumbledore's voice sounded worried although the smile remained. "But trust us to find out."
* * *
Laurel walked back to her room in the east wing. Her head ached. Dumbledore's revelations had caused a tight knot in her stomach. The prospect of an evening in any of the common rooms made her wince. Who would have thought she'd miss television that much. Right know she'd have given anything for an hour of mindless entertainment.
A dark figure stepped in her way and scared her so much she bit her tongue.
"Ouch!"
Ben held her wrist to keep her from hitting him. "Sorry, Laurel, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Ben! What the hell?"
He placed a finger on his lips. "Sssh! I saw McGonagall take you away after dinner. What happened?"
"I froze a mug of butter beer."
His blank stare made her laugh but the dark cloud of confusion and fear didn't lift. "A long story, Ben. It was nice to wait for me. I am not in trouble, if that's what you think."
He walked next to her down the stairs. Laurel had subsided to wonder how the corridors were lit at night. There were no candles or light bulbs but enough light to move safely. From behind doors one could hear laughter and words.
Ben stopped at the landing.
"You don't look like you are up for scrabble."
"Not really," she admitted. "Especially not against teenagers who have perfected their anagramatic spells years ago."
He chuckled. "So that's why I always end up with all the Ys and Xs!"
Through the window they could see the bright moon.
"Maybe you should take a stroll through the forest, get some air," Ben suggested. "It is a bright night, you won't even need your wand to light the way."
"I'd pawn my wand for a pocket torch any time." But he was right. The cool air would calm her nerves. Still …
"We are not supposed to go there, are we? It's forbidden, they announced that the very first day at dinner."
Ben laughed. "Oh Laurel, and you tell me you want nothing to do with this world? It is a fairy tale, nothing more. Of course they don't want the kids there - they are teachers, remember. Just take the name: Forbidden Forrest! What do you think is out there? Dragons? The Easter Bunny? Unicorns?"
She gave him a self-mocking grin. "But I love fairy tales. I just don't want to live in one."
* * *
She remembered her own words when the shadows killed the unicorn. "I don't want to live in a fairy tale." Some fairy tales were cruel and so was this.
They held the mare with chains glinting like silver, and although the creature strained against the chains it could not break free. A blade flashed in the moonlight.
Laurel stood behind a tree, barely hidden by it's trunk and shadow. She couldn't move, tried to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth and stifled her cry. A familiar voice whispered almost inaudibly into her left ear.
"No word if you want to live."
She swallowed hard. Closing her eyes couldn't shut out the screams of pain and torture that accompanied the beautiful creature's death. The cloaked figures kneeled next to the unicorn's throat and after a moment of what seemed to be some sort of prayer or ritual, bowed over the pulsing stream of blood like over a water fountain.
Laurel's stomach heaved.
Then, like mist or shadows, the killers vanished in the darkness beyond the trees. Laurel's knees shook like crazy. Had the hand over her mouth not kept her pressed to a tall body behind her, she would have fallen where she stood. What was exactly what happened when he let go. Without thinking she crawled towards the dying animal. The mare lay trembling, her breath already going shallow, her shiny white coat matted with blood. The eyes fluttered open and looked straight at Laurel. She reached out and touched the soft muzzle. A sadness filled her heart and mind, a sadness far deeper than anything she had ever felt. Her homesickness, her confusion about the enforced stay at Hogwarts, certainly the disturbing crush she had developed on the Potions master - it all paled to nothingness compared to the utter sense of loss.
Snape, who had kept her silent while the killers finished her despicable deed, saw with awe how tears streamed down her face, how sobs shook her body. While the pain and sadness seemed to pour out of her, all he could feel was panic and the need to get away - very far away where he needn't deal with so much emotion.
Then he heard the sound of hooves in the clearing and knew it was too late. He moved closer towards the crying woman. The last thing they needed now was a unicorn crazed with pain after the loss of his mate. The stud stormed through the grass and mist, the horn lowered. His eyes, usually crystal clear, were clouded with desperation. Snape knew that he should grab Laurel and Apparate the hell out of there but all he could do was stand still. The unicorn suddenly stopped, the horn less than an inch from Snape's heart. Cold sweat began to trickle down his back. There were people who could communicate with unicorns. But not he. These creatures were too pure, too light. 'Lilly could do it,' he remembered.
Laurel looked up. Still shaken and crying she saw Snape standing like a shield between the dead mare and the raging unicorn. She reached for Snape's hand. "He wants us to leave." She had no idea how the thought had entered her mind. "He wants to mourn her."
Snape pulled her up and away from the blood-stained body. The unicorn watched their every move.
Laurel took a last look back. "I am sorry," she whispered. The creature bowed his head. Snape's skin crawled. He had to get her away from there and fast.
"Let us leave him alone." His tone was urgent and soothing at the same time. He held her wrist in a steely grip and dragged her after him trough the woods. The unicorn did not follow them. Finally when they had reached the meadow he allowed her to stop and catch her breath.
Sudden anger almost choked him.
"What in the underworld did you think you were doing in the Forbidden Forest? Do you want me to explain the term "forbidden" to you? It means DO - NOT - GO - THERE! Never. Ever." His voice had sounded louder than he intended.
Tears welled up in her eyes once more. "I … they killed that beautiful animal. They sliced her throat and …," she whispered. "They drank her blood."
Snape nodded. "This is not their first kill and they would not have spared any of us had they discovered our presence. Now let me ask again: What did you do there?"
"I wanted to be alone for a while. I .. I am not used to be surrounded by people all day long. I am not used to follow a tight schedule I didn't set myself. You should be the first to understand. You can hide in that dungeon of yours if you want to be alone. But I have to deal with all that weird wizard stuff, haven't seen my friends and family in weeks and have to share a room with Serene."
"I understand." He actually did. Not the part about her friends and family since he didn't have any and therefore never felt the need to see them. But the part about being alone. "Would you rather have me leave you?" At the same moment he knew that he couldn't let her by herself so close to the forest. She shook her head, sniffling.
"I walked past the Quidditch grounds and then I entered the forest and got lost. I know I shouldn't have set foot in there but … The mist and the trees, it was like a maze. Only I couldn't find the exit. Then there was … the unicorn. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I didn't know they existed."
"There are not many left," Snape remarked matter of factly. "Three of them got killed this summer."
He passed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.
"Can you Apparate back to the castle gates?" he asked.
She blushed. "I am not very good at Apparating, I'm afraid. I don't think I'll ever get a license. I mean, I can depart and all that. And I arrive. But not necessarily where I intend to."
"So chances are that you end up on the roof?"
"Or worse."
He sighed. Of course he could have Apparated them back to Hogwarts in a matter of seconds. But that would make it unavoidable to touch her again. The two minutes he had held her in the forest to keep her from betraying their presence had been more than he could take a second time in one night. Hold her close, smell her hair, feel her heart beat ... No way.
"Let us walk then," he suggested dryly. "That way we should arrive late but safely."
They walked past the gardens. The cold nights had taken their toll of the flowerbeds. A few days ago Hagrid had wrapped the glasshouses in a protective coat of straw mats. The hedges glittered with frost.
"So if Apparating is not one of your stronger subjects, what is?" Snape tried to keep her talking so she wouldn't think about the dead unicorn anymore. "And please don't tell me it is Potions because we both know it is not."
"I am rather good at spells," she ventured. "And history. Everything you can learn from books, I guess. Though it's been a while since I fell off the broom. In fact it is much like riding a bike."
She looked at him curiously. "Did you ever?"
"Did I ever what? Fall off a broom? No."
"Did you ever ride a bike?"
He thought about it. "I wouldn't think so."
Laurel rubbed her arms vigorously to get warm. "Will it snow here in winter? This is Scotland, isn't it?"
"It was, last time I looked," he sneered. "Didn't the Ministry supply you with appropriate clothes?"
That blew it. "What is wrong with my sweater?" she fumed. "It has been a while since I had to wear a school uniform. And believe me I am not like Serene who finds some sick pleasure in disguising as an aged Head girl in plaid skirts and stockings."
Snape did his best to remain serious. "Your sweater is fine," he managed. "Only …"
"I risked my life for that sweater, OK?" She pointed to the washed out emblazoned letters. "I had to outrun hundreds of rock-fans to get it. Not that you people have any idea what rock music is!"
His voice was suspiciously grave. "I may waste the better part of my time forcing the basic rules of concoction into pea-brains and preventing Neville Longbottom from meeting an early death in my classroom, but contrary to your opinion of me I am not completely ignorant of the muggle world. I know quite well what rock music is."
That shut her up, at least for 30 seconds.
"So why is everybody picking at my clothes?"
"I just thought you must be cold," he shrugged. "I don't give a damn about clothes as everybody in Hogwarts will be pleased to confirm. If you ask one of the house-elves I am sure they can provide something that is warm but doesn't turn you into an … aged schoolgirl. In the meantime …" He slipped out of his woollen cloak and handed it to her.
"Thank you," she beamed. "But you'll freeze to death." He only wore pants and a black shirt which made his face even paler than usual. "Why don't we share the cloak? It is big enough for both of us."
In the dark she couldn't tell for sure but the mere suggestion seemed to make him flinch.
"Keep it. I shall use a spell instead."
"Thank you." She shrugged into the cloak and immediately ceased shivering.
Silently they walked on.
Snape's mood turned black. It had been a long night. He had failed to save the unicorn, he had had more than his share of unwanted emotions and the spell against the cold didn't work all too well either.
And he still felt her soft lips against the palm of his hand.
After what seemed like eternity, the castle appeared.
The towers had never seemed so much like home. He pushed open the door. "I will have to report the death of the unicorn to Dumbledore."
"I know."
"I can't keep you out of this. The forest is forbidden for all students, mature or not."
"Why, Professor, you wouldn't want to damage your reputation! If I was in any of the houses you'd probably take a billion points away and it would make your day." She handed him his cloak.
He took it and stood in the hall while she went up the stairs to her quarters. On the landing she bent over the railing and looked down. "By the way. Thank you for saving my life, Potions master."
* * *
As the weeks passed a routine settled in. Classes, lectures, time out on the Quidditch grounds. Laurel had to agree with Serene that there was a certain fascination in most of the stuff they had to learn. Many evenings she found herself up late, unable to close the book she read. And every day she learned incredible things. According to their knowledge and abilities the mature students were split up and attended various classes.
There was a village nearby and the older students were allowed to go there on Saturdays and do some shopping.
This was the only thing all week long Serene and Laurel did together. It was nice to be with young people but serious shopping had to be done with somebody of the same age group.
Serene tried a velvet robe in deep blue and turned self-consciously. "I look fat in this, don't I."
Laurel rolled her eyes. They had spent almost two hours in this shop and she was dying for something to drink. "No, you don't. Buy it."
Serene took another look in the mirror. The mirror smiled and applauded as she took a full turn and made the skirt swirl.
"I'll take it then."
They left and settled at a table in front of the pub. Two mugs appeared right in front of them, and they enjoyed the last rays of autumn sun.
"Are you still longing to get expelled?" Serene asked and eyed a pretty seventh year from Ravenclaw.
Laurel shrugged. "I don't know. This place is so weird. I am not like you. I didn't dream about coming here since I was seven."
Serene's eyes clouded. "You have no idea. I my heart I always knew Hogwarts existed. But nobody would believe me. After all those years of therapy and Prozac even I had begun to think I might be crazy."
"It just worries me what my family will think about my disappearance."
"The Ministry took care of that," said a voice behind them.
Minerva McGonagall set her shopping basket to the floor and pulled a chair to the table.
"What do you mean - took care?"
"They sent a letter in which you explained that your job would keep you in England for a longer period than you had thought. Probably until Christmas or longer."
"They forged a letter?"
"I am afraid that they did."
"But my flat? Who is paying the rent?"
"I guess they have means to take care of that as well." A pot of tea appeared in front of Minerva and she sight contentedly. "Ah, shopping kills my feet."
Laurel sat there and watched her drink tea and make polite conversation with Serene. Homesickness almost choked her. Suddenly her mug cracked and burst. Ice crystals shattered all over the table. Minerva reacted fast and pinched Laurel's hand.
"Ouch!"
"Wake up, girl! Look what you just did. I thought you had some control over your feelings by now."
"At least she didn't set fire," Serene remarked smugly. "And she'll come handy next summer. We'll never run out of ice cubes."
* * *
That evening after dinner Professor McGonagall waited for Laurel at the door of the Great Hall. Laurel blushed. The ice incident had been embarrassing and had minimised her chances to get released anywhere soon.
"Come with me," McGonagall ordered.
Speculating about what might happen to students who broke mugs by shock- freezing them, Laurel followed. They entered the Professor's study. On the carved oak desk stood a large china bowl with water.
"I assume it was sadness, not anger that was responsible for this afternoon's unfortunate event?"
"Yes. I am sorry."
The older woman pointed at the bowl. "Maybe it gets better if you see that all is well at home."
Laurel frowned. "In a soup tureen?"
"Have a look."
She waved a hand over the water and mumbled a few words. "Don't attempt this yourself yet!"
The water surface rippled and blurred. Suddenly Laurel recognised colours, shapes and saw her nephews collect chestnuts from the big tree in her parent's garden while the sun set. Bobo, their dog, jumped about and barked. She smiled sadly and looked at Minerva. "Is this real?"
"It happens this very minute. You can have a glimpse at them now and then. Just see me in my office and I help you. But you must promise to try and keep control."
"It is not that I don't try … it just …"
Professor McGonagall offered her a seat. "Your mind slips?"
"Yes."
"Is there anything at Hogwarts that worries you or scares you?"
Laurel sighed. "Do you remember your first term at Hogwarts?"
"Very vividly."
"Now imagine all that but at age thirty. The kids are very nice and I like them a lot. But I feel like a fool most of the time."
"But this fool will live and not get killed by avalanches or hailstorms."
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.
"Allow me to call Professor Dumbledore to join or little conversation."
Before Laurel could nod, Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. Laurel had seen some of the teachers do it but it still amazed her.
The headmaster wiped his feet before he stepped onto Minerva's carpet. "Sorry about the ashes."
"Never mind, Albus." Professor McGonagall smiled. "You and I agreed upon letting Miss Hunter settle in before we talked to her about the true reasons for her stay here. I feel the time has come now."
Laurel sat up straight. "The true reason? What do you mean?"
"All those accidents that happened to you form a pattern," Dumbledore explained. "Natural phenomena but sudden and violent. Considering that you had little control over your talents …"
"Or none," Minerva muttered.
"You could have been the cause of all that. But not the fire in the National Library," he continued.
"Are you saying that somebody is trying to kill me?" Laurel felt a hysterical laughter raise in her throat. Smoke poisoning. She had suffered a real bad case of smoke poisoning and was hallucinating. All this - the school, the wizards, the broomsticks for heaven's sake - had to be caused be too much carbon monoxide. Right now she probably lay in a coma somewhere in a hospital bed.
"We are afraid so."
Minerva saw it coming and passed a glass with amber liquid to Laurel.
"What is this? One of Snape's potions? Will it turn me into a frog?"
"It is muggle cognac," Dumbledore smiled.
Laurel drowned the glass in one go and coughed for the next minute or so. The Professors waited patiently until she could speak again.
"Why would anybody want to kill me?"
"We don't know, Miss Hunter." Dumbledore's voice sounded worried although the smile remained. "But trust us to find out."
* * *
Laurel walked back to her room in the east wing. Her head ached. Dumbledore's revelations had caused a tight knot in her stomach. The prospect of an evening in any of the common rooms made her wince. Who would have thought she'd miss television that much. Right know she'd have given anything for an hour of mindless entertainment.
A dark figure stepped in her way and scared her so much she bit her tongue.
"Ouch!"
Ben held her wrist to keep her from hitting him. "Sorry, Laurel, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Ben! What the hell?"
He placed a finger on his lips. "Sssh! I saw McGonagall take you away after dinner. What happened?"
"I froze a mug of butter beer."
His blank stare made her laugh but the dark cloud of confusion and fear didn't lift. "A long story, Ben. It was nice to wait for me. I am not in trouble, if that's what you think."
He walked next to her down the stairs. Laurel had subsided to wonder how the corridors were lit at night. There were no candles or light bulbs but enough light to move safely. From behind doors one could hear laughter and words.
Ben stopped at the landing.
"You don't look like you are up for scrabble."
"Not really," she admitted. "Especially not against teenagers who have perfected their anagramatic spells years ago."
He chuckled. "So that's why I always end up with all the Ys and Xs!"
Through the window they could see the bright moon.
"Maybe you should take a stroll through the forest, get some air," Ben suggested. "It is a bright night, you won't even need your wand to light the way."
"I'd pawn my wand for a pocket torch any time." But he was right. The cool air would calm her nerves. Still …
"We are not supposed to go there, are we? It's forbidden, they announced that the very first day at dinner."
Ben laughed. "Oh Laurel, and you tell me you want nothing to do with this world? It is a fairy tale, nothing more. Of course they don't want the kids there - they are teachers, remember. Just take the name: Forbidden Forrest! What do you think is out there? Dragons? The Easter Bunny? Unicorns?"
She gave him a self-mocking grin. "But I love fairy tales. I just don't want to live in one."
* * *
She remembered her own words when the shadows killed the unicorn. "I don't want to live in a fairy tale." Some fairy tales were cruel and so was this.
They held the mare with chains glinting like silver, and although the creature strained against the chains it could not break free. A blade flashed in the moonlight.
Laurel stood behind a tree, barely hidden by it's trunk and shadow. She couldn't move, tried to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth and stifled her cry. A familiar voice whispered almost inaudibly into her left ear.
"No word if you want to live."
She swallowed hard. Closing her eyes couldn't shut out the screams of pain and torture that accompanied the beautiful creature's death. The cloaked figures kneeled next to the unicorn's throat and after a moment of what seemed to be some sort of prayer or ritual, bowed over the pulsing stream of blood like over a water fountain.
Laurel's stomach heaved.
Then, like mist or shadows, the killers vanished in the darkness beyond the trees. Laurel's knees shook like crazy. Had the hand over her mouth not kept her pressed to a tall body behind her, she would have fallen where she stood. What was exactly what happened when he let go. Without thinking she crawled towards the dying animal. The mare lay trembling, her breath already going shallow, her shiny white coat matted with blood. The eyes fluttered open and looked straight at Laurel. She reached out and touched the soft muzzle. A sadness filled her heart and mind, a sadness far deeper than anything she had ever felt. Her homesickness, her confusion about the enforced stay at Hogwarts, certainly the disturbing crush she had developed on the Potions master - it all paled to nothingness compared to the utter sense of loss.
Snape, who had kept her silent while the killers finished her despicable deed, saw with awe how tears streamed down her face, how sobs shook her body. While the pain and sadness seemed to pour out of her, all he could feel was panic and the need to get away - very far away where he needn't deal with so much emotion.
Then he heard the sound of hooves in the clearing and knew it was too late. He moved closer towards the crying woman. The last thing they needed now was a unicorn crazed with pain after the loss of his mate. The stud stormed through the grass and mist, the horn lowered. His eyes, usually crystal clear, were clouded with desperation. Snape knew that he should grab Laurel and Apparate the hell out of there but all he could do was stand still. The unicorn suddenly stopped, the horn less than an inch from Snape's heart. Cold sweat began to trickle down his back. There were people who could communicate with unicorns. But not he. These creatures were too pure, too light. 'Lilly could do it,' he remembered.
Laurel looked up. Still shaken and crying she saw Snape standing like a shield between the dead mare and the raging unicorn. She reached for Snape's hand. "He wants us to leave." She had no idea how the thought had entered her mind. "He wants to mourn her."
Snape pulled her up and away from the blood-stained body. The unicorn watched their every move.
Laurel took a last look back. "I am sorry," she whispered. The creature bowed his head. Snape's skin crawled. He had to get her away from there and fast.
"Let us leave him alone." His tone was urgent and soothing at the same time. He held her wrist in a steely grip and dragged her after him trough the woods. The unicorn did not follow them. Finally when they had reached the meadow he allowed her to stop and catch her breath.
Sudden anger almost choked him.
"What in the underworld did you think you were doing in the Forbidden Forest? Do you want me to explain the term "forbidden" to you? It means DO - NOT - GO - THERE! Never. Ever." His voice had sounded louder than he intended.
Tears welled up in her eyes once more. "I … they killed that beautiful animal. They sliced her throat and …," she whispered. "They drank her blood."
Snape nodded. "This is not their first kill and they would not have spared any of us had they discovered our presence. Now let me ask again: What did you do there?"
"I wanted to be alone for a while. I .. I am not used to be surrounded by people all day long. I am not used to follow a tight schedule I didn't set myself. You should be the first to understand. You can hide in that dungeon of yours if you want to be alone. But I have to deal with all that weird wizard stuff, haven't seen my friends and family in weeks and have to share a room with Serene."
"I understand." He actually did. Not the part about her friends and family since he didn't have any and therefore never felt the need to see them. But the part about being alone. "Would you rather have me leave you?" At the same moment he knew that he couldn't let her by herself so close to the forest. She shook her head, sniffling.
"I walked past the Quidditch grounds and then I entered the forest and got lost. I know I shouldn't have set foot in there but … The mist and the trees, it was like a maze. Only I couldn't find the exit. Then there was … the unicorn. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I didn't know they existed."
"There are not many left," Snape remarked matter of factly. "Three of them got killed this summer."
He passed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.
"Can you Apparate back to the castle gates?" he asked.
She blushed. "I am not very good at Apparating, I'm afraid. I don't think I'll ever get a license. I mean, I can depart and all that. And I arrive. But not necessarily where I intend to."
"So chances are that you end up on the roof?"
"Or worse."
He sighed. Of course he could have Apparated them back to Hogwarts in a matter of seconds. But that would make it unavoidable to touch her again. The two minutes he had held her in the forest to keep her from betraying their presence had been more than he could take a second time in one night. Hold her close, smell her hair, feel her heart beat ... No way.
"Let us walk then," he suggested dryly. "That way we should arrive late but safely."
They walked past the gardens. The cold nights had taken their toll of the flowerbeds. A few days ago Hagrid had wrapped the glasshouses in a protective coat of straw mats. The hedges glittered with frost.
"So if Apparating is not one of your stronger subjects, what is?" Snape tried to keep her talking so she wouldn't think about the dead unicorn anymore. "And please don't tell me it is Potions because we both know it is not."
"I am rather good at spells," she ventured. "And history. Everything you can learn from books, I guess. Though it's been a while since I fell off the broom. In fact it is much like riding a bike."
She looked at him curiously. "Did you ever?"
"Did I ever what? Fall off a broom? No."
"Did you ever ride a bike?"
He thought about it. "I wouldn't think so."
Laurel rubbed her arms vigorously to get warm. "Will it snow here in winter? This is Scotland, isn't it?"
"It was, last time I looked," he sneered. "Didn't the Ministry supply you with appropriate clothes?"
That blew it. "What is wrong with my sweater?" she fumed. "It has been a while since I had to wear a school uniform. And believe me I am not like Serene who finds some sick pleasure in disguising as an aged Head girl in plaid skirts and stockings."
Snape did his best to remain serious. "Your sweater is fine," he managed. "Only …"
"I risked my life for that sweater, OK?" She pointed to the washed out emblazoned letters. "I had to outrun hundreds of rock-fans to get it. Not that you people have any idea what rock music is!"
His voice was suspiciously grave. "I may waste the better part of my time forcing the basic rules of concoction into pea-brains and preventing Neville Longbottom from meeting an early death in my classroom, but contrary to your opinion of me I am not completely ignorant of the muggle world. I know quite well what rock music is."
That shut her up, at least for 30 seconds.
"So why is everybody picking at my clothes?"
"I just thought you must be cold," he shrugged. "I don't give a damn about clothes as everybody in Hogwarts will be pleased to confirm. If you ask one of the house-elves I am sure they can provide something that is warm but doesn't turn you into an … aged schoolgirl. In the meantime …" He slipped out of his woollen cloak and handed it to her.
"Thank you," she beamed. "But you'll freeze to death." He only wore pants and a black shirt which made his face even paler than usual. "Why don't we share the cloak? It is big enough for both of us."
In the dark she couldn't tell for sure but the mere suggestion seemed to make him flinch.
"Keep it. I shall use a spell instead."
"Thank you." She shrugged into the cloak and immediately ceased shivering.
Silently they walked on.
Snape's mood turned black. It had been a long night. He had failed to save the unicorn, he had had more than his share of unwanted emotions and the spell against the cold didn't work all too well either.
And he still felt her soft lips against the palm of his hand.
After what seemed like eternity, the castle appeared.
The towers had never seemed so much like home. He pushed open the door. "I will have to report the death of the unicorn to Dumbledore."
"I know."
"I can't keep you out of this. The forest is forbidden for all students, mature or not."
"Why, Professor, you wouldn't want to damage your reputation! If I was in any of the houses you'd probably take a billion points away and it would make your day." She handed him his cloak.
He took it and stood in the hall while she went up the stairs to her quarters. On the landing she bent over the railing and looked down. "By the way. Thank you for saving my life, Potions master."
* * *
